Taming the Alien

Cast(e)

Falls was in the canteen eating dry toast, no butter; drinking milk, no taste. Rosie, her friend, breezed in. As much as you can breeze if your arm’s in a sling and your face is bruised.

‘Hiya Rosie.’

‘Hiya hon.’

Like that.

Rosie said, ‘Yer wondering what happened to me, right?’

‘Ahm …

‘Falls — look at me! I’m a wreck.’

Falls put the toast down. ‘Oh my God! What have you been doing, girl?’

‘Didn’t you know I was on holiday? Jack and I’ve been saving to go to India, and we went.’

Falls couldn’t resist. ‘And they didn’t like you much.’

Rosie reached over, touched her friend’s arm. ‘Wake up and smell the coffee honey, OK? I’ve always wanted to go to Goa cos of the old hippy trail and those beaches … Her arms and face were tan; what’s known as a cowboy tan — the body stays soap-white.

Falls tried to focus. ‘Did you have a terrific time?’

‘I can’t believe you don’t know! We flew to Delhi and got a cab at the airport. The taxis, they drive like the worst night in Brixton … sorry … I mean …

Falls being black, didn’t take it personally. When white Londoners reached for adjectives, metaphors for chaos, they used Brixton. If hardly commendable, it was vague times comprehensible. So it goes, an urban blues.

Rosie, less fired, said, ‘A transit van hit us, driven by Australians. The taxi driver was killed and I was unconscious for five days.’

Falls, for an instant, near forgot the child she carried and touched her friend’s face. ‘Ah darlin’, are you all right?’

‘I am now. They pinned my arm, and do you know, they don’t bind broken ribs? They hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Jack, the rascal …

‘Rascal? Have you been watching Sean Bean in Sharpe?’

Rosie laughed. She had a reach down in your gut laugh with her heart — and screw the face lines. ‘He never got a scratch. I had concussion and the doctor said, “Your head won’t be right for some time.” The wanker. I’m a WPC — my head will never be right! But enough about me, fascinating though it is. What’s with you, girl? You’re distant.’

Falls let her eyes drop to her stomach and edged a tiny smile lit with mischief, wonder, delight.

Rosie stared, eyes like saucers, and then, ‘Oh my word! Oh … oh … oh!’ And jumped up, trying to hug Falls with her good arm. The various cops in the canteen turned round, their look proclaiming: What the hell is it with these women?

Rosie touched her head, looked bashful as well as bashed, said, ‘Sorry,’ then whispered,

‘Congratulations … oh, I love you.’

So all in all, it has to be said, Rosie sure received the news a whole lot better than the doctor. Trying to keep her voice low, she asked, ‘How does it feel? Are you having morning sickness?’

‘No, nothing; but I think I’m going to get my wish.’

‘What?’

‘Huge boobs.’

Their attempts to stifle the laughter only made it worse. Then Falls told her of the arsonist and how Brant was away. ‘Don’t you see? It’s my chance. If I catch the guy I’ll get promotion and be able to afford the baby bills.’

Rosie shook her head. ‘Don’t be crazy, the guy could be dangerous.’

‘He’s all mouth, no danger.’

But she was wrong.

The duty sergeant appeared, said, ‘If comedy hour is over, I have a case that requires female tact.’ Which told them exactly zero.

On the way, Falls said, ‘If it’s a girl, I’ll call her Rosie.’

An elderly woman was sitting in the interview room. Falls sat and checked the charge sheet. The woman leant over, peered and said, ‘Good Lord, you’re a black person!’ Falls geared up. ‘Is that a problem?’

‘Oh no dear. It’s nice they’re letting you people in. I love Ray Charles.’

The charge sheet was, as usual, unhelpful, so Falls said, ‘Mrs Clark … Why don’t you tell me in your own words what happened?’

She was happy to.

‘I was sitting in Kennington Park — so nice there — and a man walked up to me and just stood there. So I said, “Can I help you?” and he said, “Look, look — I’m exposing myself!” He sounded very agitated.’

‘Was he?’

‘Was he what, my dear?’

‘Flashing … I mean, did he … take out his privates?’

‘His John Thomas, you mean? I said — “You’ll have to move closer as my eyesight is poorly”.’

Falls tried to contain herself, asked, ‘What happened?’

‘He moved closer and I stabbed it with my Papermate. That’s when he started screaming and the police came.’

Falls wanted to hug her. ‘Would you like some tea?’

‘Oh yes please, dear. Two sugars and a Marietta. Just one, I don’t want to spoil my dinner.’ As Falls stood up, the woman added, ‘You’re so kind, dear. Might I ask you a question?’

‘Of course.’

‘Your tribe, the coloureds — why do they wear those caps the wrong way round?’

‘It’s fashion, Ma’am.’

‘I think it’s rather silly, but … if it keeps you happy … Then she added, ‘I hate to be a nuisance but will I be able to get my Papermate back?’